


Mistakes

by brookwrites



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Soulmate AU, Swearing, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 20:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15915546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookwrites/pseuds/brookwrites
Summary: Written for the Trope Challenge by @phanfichallenge on Tumblr!Dan and Phil grew up in a society where their love lives were all planned out for them; at the age of five, they were given a diary to write to their soulmate in every day, and it would only show them the gender and skin shade of their future partner. Everything else about their soulmate would remain hidden, regulated by a secretive government agency. At the age of 25, Dan finally attends the national convention to search for his soulmate, and he meets someone he’s sure is his soulmate; every detail matches up. But the writing in their diaries are different. Dan’s sure he and Phil are soulmates, but the system begs to differ. The system guarantees it doesn’t make mistakes, but somewhere deep within him Dan has no doubt. He and Phil are soulmates, no matter what some records say. Mistakes have already been made, but he’s about to make a lot more.





	Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Trope Challenge by @phanfichallenge on Tumblr!Dan and Phil grew up in a society where their love lives were all planned out for them; at the age of five, they were given a diary to write to their soulmate in every day, and it would only show them the gender and skin shade of their future partner. Everything else about their soulmate would remain hidden, regulated by a secretive government agency. At the age of 25, Dan finally attends the national convention to search for his soulmate, and he meets someone he’s sure is his soulmate; every detail matches up. But the writing in their diaries are different. Dan’s sure he and Phil are soulmates, but the system begs to differ. The system guarantees it doesn’t make mistakes, but somewhere deep within him Dan has no doubt. He and Phil are soulmates, no matter what some records say. Mistakes have already been made, but he’s about to make a lot more.

It’s crazy, isn’t it? How your entire life can be in complete shambles, shattered like a flimsy piece of glass, and you feel like the ground is crumbling underneath your feet and nothing could possibly stop it, and then something appears out of nowhere to change your life. How suddenly one unexpected aspect of your life, your day, your being is able to save you from yourself and everything around you threatening to attack. How we as humans put all our eggs in one basket whose wicker lining is sure to break someday. It really is purely insane how everything finally feels alright, but deep down there’s still pain because you know, and you knew from the very beginning, that the one thing keeping you alive and happy is temporary, and soon everything will be shattered once again.

Dan woke up at noon, as he did often on days he didn’t have to work. He was exhausted from the late night he’d had sitting up and doing casework; he’d rather leave his job at the law firm and spend his evenings on his laptop scrolling like he did when he was younger, but he was so overwhelmingly consumed by work that there was no way out. 

He stretched his long arms and legs, dragging his lanky body out of bed and over to his desk. It was cluttered with files from the previous night, but he brushed them all aside and pulled out his pale white diary, rainbow on the front glistening as he opened it up to the day’s page. 

Before reading the already filled out left hand side, he paused to think. This is a marvel he experienced every few months, and especially around that time of year. 

Sometimes he just paused and thought about their world. He stared down at the little diary and thought about how utterly crazy it was that the tiny book controlled their entire lives. That they were in control of what they wrote in it, yet they really had no control at all. That there was such a good chance that he’d never know whose handwriting sat elegantly in the left hand side of his diary. 

Still, twenty years after after he began writing in it, the entire concept of the diary blew his mind. He still remembered on his fifth birthday when the entire family gathered around the cleanly wrapped box that nobody got him, the one that simply appeared like all diaries did. He remembered tearing through the paper and opening the box, lifting the book out of it. He was young, yes, but all children, even at that age, understood the severity of the diaries and what each little factor of it meant. He took a moment to admire the vampire-white cover, symbolizing the almost albino skin tone his soulmate held. Quickly, though, his eyes settled on the rainbow lying square in the middle of the cover; he knew of it, but he’d never seen it before. It told him that his soulmate was a boy, not a girl. That wasn’t a weird factor, but it seemed different to him simply because both his mom and his dad had a simple straight, black line across their diaries. It wasn’t bad even in the slightest; it was just different. Dan didn’t mind. 

He tore himself back out of his own mind, focusing on the same diary sat on his desk. It was open to the date’s page: July 1, 2016. That’s why Dan was flashing back; it was July 1. Everyone knew the date July 1. That was Description Day. 

Once a year, on July 1, everyone would take up their daily diary page to write a description of themselves; they’d write about their physical appearance, job, and general life, but leave out any details about where they live or even their name. Those were the two unspoken traits; there was a government censor on the diaries so that if anyone attempted to write them, they would immediately be erased. It couldn’t be that easy. 

But this year, everything changed for Dan. At the age of 25, July 1 also became Convention Day. Everyone over the age of 25 who hadn’t yet found their soulmate was expected to attend a national convention every year to attempt to find them. They were often so large there was no chance of finding anyone, but the success rate was high enough to where they went on. Dan had turned 25 only two weeks earlier, and it was time for his first one. In an hour. 

He leaped from his seat, suddenly realizing he had only an hour to get to the convention. Luckily, he lived right in the heart of London, where the convention would be held, but eating and getting ready would take him a while. Within five minutes he had downed a bowl of cereal and found himself in the shower, rushing to make himself look presentable for the convention. Everyone always dressed to impress at these things. Half an hour later he rushed out wearing his nicest suit and clutching his diary in his arms, a pen hidden away in his pants pocket. It took him five overly frustrating minutes to hail a cab, and when he finally settled into the back of the taxi with 20 minutes to spare, he let out an exhale he didn’t know possible. 

“Convention?” The driver asked. Dan probably wasn’t the first one she’d driven there. 

“Yeah,” Dan said, out of breath. 

“Mind if I park and come in with you? You should be my last run.” 

“Sure, why not?” Dan said. “Description?” That was a one word question almost anyone who met on the street would ask each other. It was almost expected as a conversation starter. 

“Woman, medium-white,” she said. 

“Nice. Man, pale as hell.” 

She chuckled. “Good luck with that.” 

“And to you.” Dan pulled the pen out of his pocket and opened his diary, not yet taking time to read the other page. 

“You haven’t written yet?” 

Dan rolled his eyes. “Overslept.” The woman nodded and left Dan to jot down his description. He wrote about his freakish height, curly brown locks, chocolate eyes, and tendency to wear nothing but black. He told his soulmate all about his shitty law job, his lack of sleep, and his long list of extremely odd habits. After running out of space, Dan decided his description was probably good enough and turned to read his soulmate’s. Hey, it’s me. You probably already know all this, but i’ve got a jet-black quiff, sea blue eyes with flecks of color, and extreme height. I should probably be a basketball player, but I’m just a simple zookeeper. You could probably guess I love animals, which is why I spend 90% of my free time wearing quirky animal shirts and mismatched socks. I’m so glad you’re finally old enough to come to the convention; I’ve skipped the last four years because there’s not much of a point if you won’t be there, but I’m glad we can finally both have our first time going. Hope to meet you there today :)

Dan smiled at the diary, rereading the entry and visualizing the same man he’d spent years perfecting in his head. He just seemed so adorable and lovable to Dan; how did he get lucky enough to have such a wonderful soulmate? 

He felt a bit bad for him though, with their four year age difference. The man wrote to nobody for four years, even fearing that there was a mistake and he didn’t have a soulmate. The day Dan finally wrote back was the best of his life. Or at least that’s what he wrote. Dan knew the man best from his scraggly yet beautiful handwriting that curled across his pages every morning. He felt he knew everything about him, how he’d get up early and drink way too much coffee to get through each day, how he’d stick his tongue in between his teeth when he laughed, how he’d take time out of his day to spend with each and every one of the animals at his zoo. Somehow, he knew all these things, all there was to know about him, yet they’d never even met.

The diaries were almost like email in Dan’s mind. They would write back and forth to each other, like pen pals. Except instead of writing happy letters to each other, they’d each describe their lives until one fell in love with the other, and it was beautiful. 

By the time Dan finished writing and reading, they were pulling into the convention center parking lot. Having lived in London for years, he’d seen the scene before, but it was the first time he’d be venturing into it. The driver parked and they climbed out of the car, Dan stretching his freakishly long legs and taking a deep breath of the warm, summer air. There were two entrances; one with a rainbow over the doors, and one with a straight, black line. Dan and his driver both entered the rainbow door then parted ways upon finding a split between women and men. That was as much as they could split people up; they’d end up intermingling anyway if they divided any further. After that, it was simply up to the people to find their soulmates. 

For once, Dan’s height played to his advantage. He managed to peer over the heads of the rest of the crowd, searching for a black quiff at his own eye level. Although he could see over most heads, he was still overwhelmed by the sea of people he was forced to attempt to wade through. They were packed in the room like a can of sardines, left to roam, if they could even move. Dan would have thought the convention would have a bit more order. 

He kept looking around, but he couldn’t see anyone near him that seemed to meet his soulmate’s description. Every now and then he’d come across a couple of men smiling and chatting, their diaries seeming to match. Dan wished he could have that. He clutched his diary in his arms, holding it close as he wandered the room of people with almost identical books. Of course, in all the chaos and focus on the book, he forgot to protect the pen he had sticking out of the top of it. 

Dan slid through groups of people searching for someone, anyone that might be their soulmate, and found people jostling the diary secure in his hands. He managed to maintain control of the book, but the pen fell to the floor, and Dan instinctively bent down to pick it up. That proved to be a horrible decision, as the masses seemed to close in over him as if he wasn’t even there. Finally he grasped the pen and looked around, trying to find a hole to pop back up. All he saw were legs, legs, and more legs. One pair caught his eye; he noticed two mismatched socks peeking out of the pant legs of one man standing above him and remembered the sock description in his diary that morning. He pushed himself up through the crowd and came out face to face with the man, mere inches from their noses touching. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dan said, his social anxiety kicking in. “I dropped my pen and the crowd is so thick that I could barely stand back up.”

It was then that he finally started to get a good look at the man; he was just as tall as Dan, had the darkest black quiff that must have been dyed, and his eyes, oh, his eyes. They were a marvel to look at; they were a beautiful shade of turquoise, but looking close enough Dan could see little flecks of gold, almost as if they were scattered in just to make them worth so much more. 

“You look like-”

“And you look like-”

“Do you want to get away from this crowd for a while?” 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” 

“I’m Phil, by the way.” 

“Dan.” 

Phil took Dan’s hand unexpectedly, sending sparks through his body. They searched the crowd for any open space or even an unoccupied corner, but the place was packed, and people were still continuing to flow in. “I don’t usually think people do this before checking each other’s diaries, but do you just want to get out of here?” Phil yelled over the chatter of the crowd with the high ceiling’s echo. “We can come back if things don’t work out. Besides, I have a good feeling about you.” Phil smiled at him, and he couldn’t resist, nor could he seem to speak. All he did was nod, and then they were gone. 

Fresh air entered Dan’s lungs as they escaped from the convention center, hand in hand on the sidewalk outside. “There’s a Starbucks down the street,” Phil said. “You wanna go there?” 

Dan shrugged, just wanting to keep his hand in Phil’s. “Sure.” 

They walked to the fork in the sidewalk, and Phil began to turn left while Dan went right. Their hands were nearly torn from each other, but Dan held on, pulling them back together. “Phil, isn’t the Starbucks that way?” Phil thought for a moment before pulling out his phone and pulling up what Dan assumed was Maps. 

“Oh, you’re right,” Phil said, blushing as they walked in the correct direction. “I assume you’re from around here?” 

“Yeah,” Dan said. “Just a few minutes down the road. And you?” 

“Just outside the city. That explains why you know the area better than I do.” 

Dan couldn’t help but notice that they were still holding hands. It seemed odd to him with the fact that they technically didn’t even know they were soulmates, but it seemed so right; it wasn’t even awkward, and Dan was the king of awkward. They were soulmates. They had to be. 

“Anyway, Phil, what do you do?” 

“Uh-” Phil stuttered, seeming nervous. “I’m a zookeeper.” 

Dan smiled, knowing that was what his diary told him. “Great. I’m a lawyer.” 

Phil smiled too, and Dan assumed his diary told him the same. “Awesome.” 

“I can’t believe I found you,” Dan blurted, the awe finally setting in on him. He went to his first convention and found his soulmate in the cheesiest way possible. It was a movie he’d pay to see in theatres. 

“Me either. First convention too!” 

Dan chuckled at the fact that it almost seemed that Phil read his mind. “I know right? I’m sorry I’m so much younger than you; I can’t even imagine what it would be like to fearfully write to nobody for four years.” Dan stared at his feet as he walked, feeling the weight of the guilt he’d had about that for years.

“It was rough, but my parents assured me it happens all the time. The day you finally wrote back was the happiest day of my life,” he said, looking to Dan. “Well, aside from today, obviously.” Dan couldn’t help but smile at that, still in utter disbelief that any of it was even happening. 

There were a few seconds of silence before they came up on the Starbucks, and Phil held the door open for Dan as they walked in. Dan’s heart beat out of his chest, every little action of Phil’s pulling him in deeper. They ordered their coffees, each of them taking careful note of the other’s order for future reference, and sat down at a booth. 

“This is unbelievable,” Dan said for what he was sure was the second or third time. “I never thought I’d find you so easily.”

Phil smiled, cradling his coffee cup in between his hands and taking a ginger sip. “Me either. Do you think we should?” he said, nodding his head to their diaries they set on the table. Phil’s was the slightest shade darker than Dan’s, making the difference between the two distinct enough to tell which was which. They slid the diaries across the table and opened each other’s diaries to the day’s page. Dan looked to the page he wrote on earlier, expecting to reread what he wrote Phil this morning, except it wasn’t there. The writing on the page was in completely different handwriting, and said something completely different. Phil’s writing was different than the one Dan read from his soulmate that morning as well. 

“We’re-” Dan stuttered.

“I guess we’re not-”

“Yeah, here’s your-”

“And here’s your-” 

“Yeah.” They awkwardly exchanged books, neither of the pair able to complete a sentence. Dan couldn’t go on like that. “You seem really nice though... Do you want to hang out sometime? As-uh-as friends?” 

“Yeah,” Phil said, disappointment clear in his tone. “That would be nice.”

Dan took a napkin from the holder on the table, pulled the pen he somehow still possessed from his diary, and jotted down his number on it, sliding it across the table to Phil. “Here,” he said. “Text me later.” 

Dan stood up, swiping his diary and coffee cup off the table, tossing the latter in a bin on the way out. The warm, summer air hit his face as he stepped out of the air conditioning and hailed a cab, not having the energy to walk home. 

After a short, silent taxi ride, Dan dragged himself up the stairs to his flat and threw himself on his bed, sighing. He could have gone back to the convention, he knew, but after that experience he just couldn’t. He let his diary drop to the floor, barely even caring about it at that moment, and left himself to just lie motionless there on top of his bedsheets. 

Dan awoke a few hours later, the sunset visible outside his window. It had to be around 8 or 9; after his nap he wouldn’t stand a chance at sleeping a wink that night. He’d have to do something else beside sleep. He glanced to the pile of work on his desk, but he couldn’t think of anything but Phil. Thoughts of the man had occupied his mind since his eyes opened a mere few seconds earlier, and they weren’t leaving any time soon. He reviewed the afternoon with Phil, how strongly he felt about him, and, over and over again, when he found out that they weren’t soulmates. 

Dan threw his head back on his pillow, frustrated. How could Phil not be his soulmate? He connected better with Phil than with anyone he’d ever met. Dan sighed, leaning over to pick up his laptop from the bookshelf beside him and rant about his experiences on Tumblr, but something caught his eye. Glimmering against the floor was the diary he’d thrown there earlier, left open to a page that was only half filled out. Dan picked it up, glaring at the page. He’d never seen it before. 

It was only then that Dan realized he’d never read any of Phil’s-his soulmate who wasn’t Phil’s-entries from before he got his diary. They were written there his entire life, but as a five-year-old, he never thought it important to read them, and as he grew up he simply never had the time. Now of all times he thought he’d settle in and take a look. The first entry was written in huge, messy handwriting and poor spelling and grammar. 

Hi there!!! My name is-oh wait. I cant say that can I? Im sorry. Im new at this. I just got my diaree for my birthday and Im super exited too write to u. Daddy says that sense Im writeing first that u mite not ansir four a wile, but hopefuly its soon becuz Im reely exited too meet u. its reely wild that we all have this thing they call soulmates isnt it? that each of us has one speshal person were suposed too spend our entire lifes with? i guess im thinking about it to hard. i just hope that sum day ill be abel too actually meet u and we can get maryed, witch daddy says hapens four most peeple. i reely hope im one of them. well, im starting to run out of room, so im going too stop writeing four today. ill talk too u again tommorow XD 

Dan laughed at the message. It was so obvious that a five year old wrote it, but it was adorable. He imagined a tiny Phil sat at his desk in his childhood home, his legs swinging back and forth under the seat because his feet couldn’t yet touch the floor. He could only imagine the excitement on his face as he finally started writing to Dan-except it wasn’t Phil. It never was. Dan hit himself in the head, trying to remind himself that Phil wasn’t on the other end of that diary, but something told him it wasn’t working. 

Still, Dan pressed on, turning the page and continuing to read. Hours and hours past as he read his soulmate’s writing. He would occasionally cringe or laugh at the events of the boy’s life; after all, he was no older than nine years old by the time Dan finished. Every page of the diary made him fall more and more in love with the man on the other end. The only issue was that the only one he could imagine as the man was Phil, and even though they weren’t his, nor did they have anything to do with him, he still attributed every single word he read to Phil in his mind, and he was still ten times more in love with Phil than with the man who was really on the other side of the diary. 

....i can’t believe u finally answered! i can’t wait 2 get 2 know u. maybe someday i’ll even get 2 meet u... that would b so cool... i’ll talk 2 u tmrw :) 

Dan read the first entry he ever received as a kid from the nine year old soulmate-who-definitely-wasn’t-Phil, smiling at it and slowly shutting the book. He looked over at his bedside clock and saw a glaring, red 3:29 on it. He really had been reading for hours. Technically, though, it was the next day, which meant he could write his own day’s entry. He looked to the floor and found the pen strewn there from when he threw the diary down earlier, picking it up and clicking it to prepare to write. 

He flipped the diary to the day’s page and smiled at the thought of -not- Phil’s face when he would see that Dan wrote before him for once. Almost every day the other man wrote first. He set the pen to his respective side and began to write. 

Today, I met a man. Not romantically, of course; that’s not how the system works. But we were at the convention and I met him, and he was a lot like you, to the point where we really thought we were soulmates, and then we looked in each other’s diaries and learned that we weren’t. It was devastating, but I think we’re going to be good friends in the future, and I can’t wait to meet you someday too. I know it’s odd to see me up this early, but I’ve been up all night reading your old entries from before I got my diary. They’re absolutely adorable; they just make me want to meet you even more. Someday, maybe. Have a good day :)

Dan signed his entry off the same way he normally does; he tends to either wish his soulmate a good day, or tell him he hoped he already had one, depending on how busy he was and if he managed to write before work or had to wait until after. Dan yawned, setting his diary aside and picking up his phone. He didn’t bother looking at it, as a sense of exhaustion had suddenly come over him, and he wanted to get some sleep before the morning. It was a Saturday, so he’d have all day to relax, but his sleep schedule could only get so fucked up before it started affecting his daily life, so he might as well at least make an attempt to fix it. He simply put his phone on its charger and rolled over, clutching his diary in his arms as he drifted off to sleep. 

Dan woke up to sunlight streaming through his window, illuminating his face. He groaned and rolled over to face his clock, which read 10:38. At least he’d almost slept adequately. He forced his phone off its charger and saw a singular notification on the screen: a text from an unknown number.

Hey.... It’s Phil. 

Dan almost spasmed himself awake upon reading the text, memories of the previous day flooding back in. Dan took deep breaths, trying to keep his cool; Phil couldn’t see him, only his text. 

hey phil! i had a lot of fun with you yesterday :) 

Dan sighed, setting his phone done and leaning to pick up his laptop. As he settled back under his covers, he saw his phone light up, and there it was: another text. 

Me too! You wanna hang out sometime? 

Dan’s eyes popped open, surprised at his immediate response. 

yeah, totally! tonight sound good? we can go to the bar down the street. 

Down WHAT street? 

i’ll send you an address lmao. tonight good? 8ish?

Sounds great! 

Dan threw his head back against his pillow, sighing and letting his phone fall next to him. What was he doing? What were they doing? It was all moving so fast, except it wasn’t moving at all. Nothing was moving; they weren’t soulmates. They were just going to hang out. As friends. Except Dan still thought of him as more than friends. He would give anything to spend time with Phil, but he knew it would only be digging him deeper into a hole that could cause him a lot of trouble, or worse. 

But then again, he missed Phil more than he could possibly have imagined, and it had only been a day. If he didn’t see him again, he could very well go insane. Besides, pining over Phil in the diary he wrote to his actual soulmate probably wouldn’t go the best. He had to let out his pent up feelings somehow. 

He took deep breaths, telling himself over and over again what was going to happen until he managed to accept it. “I’m meeting Phil at 8. I’m meeting Phil at 8. I’m meeting Phil at 8.” He repeated the phrase until it sunk in to the point where he was almost comfortable with it. Almost. By then it was 11; he had 9 hours. He might as well get some work done. 

He sent Phil the bar address before putting his phone on its charger and sitting down with the pile of cases on his desk and letting time pass. That was his least favorite part about this law gig; there was so much boring, arduous casework that it nearly put him back to sleep. How was it even possible for a 25 year old who hadn’t even worked at the firm for a year to have so much work? He managed to work through a few cases before he started getting so overly hungry that he couldn’t focus anymore. He managed to scrape together a meal, and by the time he had finished that and a few YouTube videos, it was 6:00. He didn’t want to get up, and quite frankly he didn’t need to, but he decided he might as well pull himself out of bed and start getting ready early. 

Dan let himself stand in the shower twice as long as he needed to and absorb the warmth of the soft water droplets. He knew the evening could bring more stress than he could handle, so he set himself on making sure he was as calm as possible before going. He then spent twice his usual time in front of the mirror fixing his hair and therefore destroying any sense of calm he may have had. By the time he felt ready to walk out the door, it was 7:30. He thought he may as well head out early; it was a beautiful night, and that would give him enough time to walk and take in the city instead of taking a cab. 

The walk down the stairs seemed longer than ever today; the enclosed space was terribly humid from the summer air, and all Dan wanted was to get outside into the open and out to Phil. Eventually he reached the bottom, and he pushed the door open, taking a deep breath and stepping into the evening light. 

It was beautiful, really, the walk to the bar. The sun was due to set in about an hour, so the light was already beginning to dim as it disappeared behind the cityscape. He began the walk in that glorious hour when he felt the need to photograph everything around him; the glare on each tiny detail made the entire city a work of art. By the time he reached the quaint bar, the light had dissipated, leaving a light blue sky to soon turn to many shades of oranges and pinks. It was calming; the situation made Dan’s heart beat at a mile a minute, but the walk was the relaxation he so desperately needed. 

Dan checked his phone outside the bar; the time was 7:55, making him five minutes early. Phil could arrive at any moment. Dan decided his best option was to head on in; Phil would find him. 

He took a seat at the grubby bar, taking a look around him. It wasn’t a gross bar, not the type where he felt like he’d be surrounded by drunks by the time Phil showed up. It was more of a neat little place; it wasn’t the cleanest, but it was nice and welcoming, a place where you’d meet someone once a week for a beer. 

“What’ll ya have?” The bartender said, sliding his way over to Dan, isolated at the end of the bar. 

“Just a beer, please.” 

“What kind?”

“Pick your favorite.” 

As the bartender turned to pour from his tap of choice, Dan heard the chime of the bell over the door signal that someone had entered the bar. His barstool swiveled at the speed of lighting and there was Phil, jet-black hair messy from the humidity. 

“I’ll have what he’s having,” he said, sitting down beside Dan as the bartender slid him his beer. A few seconds later, Phil got a drink of his own, and the night officially began. 

“Is it weird that I only met you a day ago and I already missed the hell out of you?” Dan wasn’t even one beer deep and he already sounded drunk. Maybe that was just him as a person. Drunk while sober. 

“Is it weird that I feel the same way? Almost like...” he trailed off, sipping his beer.

“Almost like what?” 

“Nothing.” 

Dan gave him a bit of a side eye before finishing the phrase himself. “Almost like a long lost friend; it’s almost like we knew each other in a past life, and now that we’re back together there’s some sort of vibrant force drawing us back towards each other.” He looked to Phil, who had his eyebrows raised. “Bit of a weird analogy, but it was the first thing that came to mind.” 

Phil stared off into the distance for a few seconds, seeming deep in thought. When his eyes finally focused back on Dan’s, all he said was, “Actually, that’s really accurate.” 

Two beers in and things were getting deep. They weren’t drunk yet; no, they weren’t even close. But they were a bit buzzed, and their third round was already sliding down the bar. It was almost like being up late at night; they were completely alert and mentally sound, yet it seemed as if they had less of a filter than usual. When it gets late enough, you don’t really think; you just do what you want. Late nights usually only end in texts you’ll probably regret sending in the morning; this alcohol buzz, however, caused them each to let things slip that they would normally decide against saying, and those slips ended up being the deepest conversation Dan had ever had with another person. 

“I don’t even know why I became a lawyer,” he said, pausing to take a sip of beer. “This isn’t the life I wanted to live; I never planned on growing up and sitting at a desk all day working cases until my hand cramped and ending up still having to take my work home with me. Why the hell did I think this was a good idea, Phil?” 

“I couldn’t tell you, Dan. Being a-uh-zookeeper,” he stuttered, eyes widening a bit for the moment, although Dan ignored it. “has its downsides too. It’s generally really cool, getting to interact with the animals and even sometimes with the people, especially with me being such an animal lover, but you definitely don’t want to be an elephant’s pooper scooper every Wednesday afternoon.” 

Dan laughed openly and childishly, something it felt like he hadn’t done in a long time. “That’s oddly specific.”

“I’ve pinpointed the worst moments of my existence, and that’s my expression of them to you. Be grateful.” 

“You be grateful. Your job is way better than mine. You’ve got one quite literally shitty part of your week, but my entire job is shitty. The only fun part is getting to go to court and get paid to argue with people, but I rarely get to do that. It’s mostly just sitting at a desk day in day out. Boring as hell.” 

Phil smirked. “I could commit a crime if you want. Give you something to argue about.” 

“Hell no,” he chuckled. “Another case? I’d rather not. Besides, your court date wouldn’t come for a few months, so that wouldn’t do me much good. I’d rather have you here. You’re the happiest I’ve been in quite a while.” 

“I feel special.” 

“You are.” 

After each of their fifth beers, they were each starting to feel the effects. They still weren’t quite drunk; they’d had enough beers in their day to learn how to hold them. But they weren’t quite thinking straight, and they’d be too drunk to drive in a matter of a beer or two. So, of course, they decided the best idea would be some harder liquor. 

“Phil, are you sure about this?” 

“Of course! It’s a Saturday night; have a little fun, Dan!” he nudged him softly with his elbow, his tongue pointing through his toothy smile. 

Dan couldn’t say no to that. “Bartender! Two shots of tequila.” Phil smiled. 

The night from then on would best be summed up in a television-style montage. The camera would zoom in on the shots as they clink together, Say Amen (Saturday Night) by Panic! at the Disco beginning to play in the background. You’d see at least five more scenes of shots and beers sliding down the bar, and probably Dan falling off his barstool once or twice as a clock ticks the time past into the morning. You’d see Phil laughing at Dan’s falls and hiccuping, his words slurring as he felt his morals caved in because he loved Dan as much as Dan loved him. You’d see them finally leave by around 3:00, no care left in the world for sleep. 

But this isn’t a montage. This isn’t a television show. There was no music, and there was no zoom. There was just the two of them, drinking and drinking and drinking until they could barely stagger out the door. There was nothing glamorous about it; there was nothing montage-worthy to be shown. There was just the air against their faces as they each tried their best to keep the other from stumbling into the highway. Just the same walk Dan took earlier, except he could barely remember his way back anymore. Just the fumbling of keys with a chuckle in the background because oh boy was it funny that Dan couldn’t work a lock. Just the two of them finally getting inside Dan’s flat and stumbling up the stairs, somehow making it to his bed intact. Just the attack of lips, the loss of clothes, and regrets. There was no montage. There were only regrets. 

Morning came, and sunlight streamed through the window as Dan came into consciousness. He groaned, covering his face with his pillow to protect himself from the light; he was hung over. Very. Hung over. Although he was practically dead, however, his ears still worked, and he could very clearly hear shuffling at the foot of his bed. This drew him to remove the pillow and very cautiously glance up to the visitor. 

There he saw Phil, facing away from him, the blue shirt he was wearing the night before falling over his back as he put it on. Everything came rushing back to him. “Phil?” he called out, his voice raspy. Even the bit of loud sound made each of them cringe. 

“Oh, Dan, you’re awake...” Phil whispered, obviously as hung over as Dan yet still rushing to get out. 

“Were you just going to leave?” 

“Yeah, I was! What did you expect me to do?” 

“I don’t know, but the answer definitely isn’t leave!” 

The scream whisper fight would probably be comical to any outsider, but to the two of them it was full of pure rage. “I’m sorry, but I just need to leave as soon as possible. You and I both know we weren’t supposed to do that. We aren’t soulmates.” 

“Do you remember doing anything?”

“Well, no...”

“And neither do I, so who’s to say anything happened.” 

“There’s a condom in the trash can, Dan.” 

“Huh. Practicing safe sex even when hammered. Who knew?” 

“Dan!” Phil yelled, causing them each to almost fall over from the sound. “Sorry,” he whispered. “But we’re not soulmates, and that means I’m going to have to leave. I’m sorry.” 

“Wait, Phil, maybe there’s been a mistake!” 

“What do you mean a mistake?” 

“I know mine’s right, but maybe that accidentally isn’t your diary?” 

“It is; I checked.” 

“Well, then maybe the system messed up, and we’re really supposed to be soulmates? Like in the movies?” 

“We don’t make mistakes,” Phil said, his voice dead serious. The light illuminated his face, making it look ominous as he turned to leave. It was a miracle either of them could take the sunlight without cringing. 

“What do you mean we?” Dan said, his brow furrowed as Phil opened the door. “Phil Lester, don’t you dare leave this room.” Dan didn’t know when he learned Phil’s surname, but he somehow knew it, and he wasn’t afraid to use it. 

Phil sighed, closing the door in front of him and slowly lowering himself to sit on the foot of Dan’s bed. “I haven’t been exactly truthful with you.” 

In the split second, Dan’s mind went insane. There were now so many possible explanations for this mess. Phil was really someone else pretending to be him, and that was why they weren’t soulmates. Or maybe that did make them soulmates. Or maybe he stole someone’s diary. There were so many possibilities, but of course he didn’t even think about the reason the conversation started in the first place. 

“I’m not a zookeeper. I guess almost everything else about me is true, as you can tell just from looking at me, but I’m not a zookeeper. I work for the IDMA.” 

Dan’s eyes practically popped out of his head. If the world was a cartoon, his jaw would have dropped to the ground. The International Diary Monitoring Agency was the most infamous organization on the planet. Yes, someone had to monitor the diaries to make sure nobody was trying to break any of the many rules in place, but it still felt like an invasion of privacy. It wasn’t a hard job either; they were all taught the rules when they were first given their diaries. It was just a matter of who was willing to take the shit of doing it. It was public knowledge that most people who worked at the IDMA lied about their jobs; however, nobody knew if it was their choice or if they were mandated. 

All Dan could manage to say was, “Wow.” 

“I know, that’s why I’m so upset! Crazy, an IDMA monitor cheating... How’d I even let myself do this? I’m the biggest hypocrite in the world.” Phil banged his head on the wall, making a loud noise each of them cringed at. Through the intensity of the conversation, they’d almost forgotten about their hangovers. Almost. 

“Wait, you’re an actual monitor? Like, you watch people’s diaries?” 

“Sure do.” 

“How do you not run across your soulmate?” 

“There’s someone above all of us that goes through the monitoring lists and makes sure nobody gets their soulmate.” 

“Have you... Have you ever seen mine?”

“It’s not on my monitor list, but I may or may not have looked it up this morning, and for fuck’s sake, Dan, be careful what you write. If I didn’t go ahead and check you off the list this morning you would have been put on a watchlist for that last entry.” 

“You guys have those?”

“Sure do.” 

“Damn. Guess you won’t be a topic in my diary anymore.” 

Phil seemed to look a bit sad at that, but he shrugged it off. “Anyway, I guess you know that secret now.” 

“Were you allowed to tell me that?” 

“Not in the slightest.” 

Guess Dan knew a second secret. “So... now what?” 

Phil pondered that for a moment, obviously having never been in that situation before. “Either I walk out this door and we never speak to each other again, or we do something crazy and stupid.”

Dan grinned. “I think you already know what I’m going to pick.” 

“Crazy and stupid?” 

“The stupidest.” 

Dan’s room suddenly looked like he was hosting a study session. Once their hangovers wore off, they had snacks and drinks galore piled on the floor, each of them sitting on the bed brainstorming. “How do you think we can do this? You know the place better than I do.” 

“Well,” Phil said, staring off into space. “I think the only way to fix the situation is to alter the data to make us soulmates; the only issue is that I’m not sure if it’ll change our soulmates’ diaries through the past, making it obvious that we’ve altered the system. However, we have the biggest fucking handbook on the planet, and enough searching should get us an answer.” 

“Can’t we just Google it?” 

“No!” Phil shouted immediately, catching Dan off guard. “You can’t. They’re watching the Internet, constantly. You’ll be on a watchlist in minutes.” 

“They really like watchlists, don’t they?” 

“Yeah, it’s ridiculous. But I’ll head home and grab the handbook; I’ll be back in about half an hour if I can catch a cab.” 

“Cya,” Dan said as Phil left the room. Dan watched him somehow immediately manage to hail a cab and climb in, disappearing off into the distance. As soon as he saw the little, yellow speck that was the taxi leave his vision, the anxiety set in. What if he wasn’t coming back? What if he was going to report him? What if something happens? He found himself watching every moment tick by; his eyes darted constantly between the clock and the window, waiting impatiently for Phil to reappear. 29 minutes after he left, Dan saw no sign of him, and his breathing was starting to become heavy. He ended up pacing the room for a few minutes until he heard a rough knock on the door. It must be Phil, he thought, trying to shove away the negative thoughts attempting to push their way into his head. He opened the door, not bothering to look through the peephole. In front of him stood Phil, but this time he brought back two other men, both dressed in suits. “IDMA. We’re gonna need you to come with us,” Phil said, a stern look on his face. Dan was stunned. 

“Hell no!” he yelled, rage running through his veins. Before he could even turn to run, Phil had grabbed his hand, and in the split second to spare he found that the touch no longer affected him; he felt nothing towards Phil in his anger. 

A needle was plunged into his arm, and all he could hear was a faint “I’m sorry” before all went black. 

Dan’s eyes opened to a blurry, white ceiling with a singular fluorescent light on in the center. He took a moment to focus before sitting up and looking around; he found himself in an oddly neat prison cell. He walked over and pressed his head against the bars, looking as far in either direction as he could. He appeared to be in a hall full of cells just like his, although all that he could see were empty. The only place he could possibly be was IDMA. 

That was when it all rushed back to him. IDMA, Phil’s betrayal, and most of all, his anger. And damn was he pissed. He couldn’t believe Phil did that to him; maybe they weren’t soulmates after all. 

Dan decided to familiarize himself a bit more with his surroundings. He woke up on the bed in one back corner, sheets as white as the rest of the room. In the other corner was a toilet he honestly felt uncomfortable using even though there was nobody else around, and beside the bed was a desk with a diary sitting on it. His diary. Of course IDMA would bring his diary to his prison cell. They’d have an aneurysm if he didn’t write daily, even when he was in their own jail. 

He decided he might as well write, although he had no clue what time it was. He was assuming it was still the same day; besides, there wasn’t much else to do. There was a white cup full of freshly sharpened pencils; those and the rainbow on the front of his diary were the only non-white things in the entire room. It was almost creepy. Dan picked up a pencil out of the cup, the sound reverberating through the entire empty hall. He glanced at the pencil for a while, considering how odd it was that his society preferred giving a sharp object to a prisoner to not having them write to their soulmate daily. He shrugged it off and put his pencil to the page, pausing it as soon as it hit the paper. Words were appearing on the other page. 

Only once or twice in his life had Dan managed to write at the same time as his soulmate, and it was always a feat to watch the other person’s words roll in. He could physically see each stroke of the pencil, each eraser mark. It was almost magical. 

It’s been quite a day, (soul)mate. I’m almost surprised you didn’t write first again. I usually have Sundays off, but I’ve been at the zoo all day dealing with a sick giraffe. He passed away this afternoon, and I’m kinda down now, so I’m not really talkative. Hope your day’s been better than mine.

Dan laughed at the entry; it was really quite sad, but in comparison, his day seemed like nothing. Alas, he had to just suck it up and answer. He couldn’t exactly vent to his soulmate about how he was in jail for cheating on him. 

It has! I hung out with my new friend all morning and now I’m just chilling. I saw you write; it was really cool! Sorry about the giraffe; hope you have a good day TOMORROW! 

The only real lie there was that it was a good day, he thought, so it was good enough. He tossed his pencil back into the cup and shut the book, letting his eyes linger on the rainbow on the front. It was really the only brightness in his life. That was when he noticed his clothes. They were all white, just like the entire room around him. He furrowed his brow, glancing down and slowly pulling forward the band of his white pants. Even his underwear was pure white. “Are you fucking joking?” Dan let his waistband snap back and flopped on the bed. This was bullshit. 

Suddenly, he heard the jingle of keys in the otherwise silent hallway. He immediately assumed someone was unlocking the door at the end of the hall and leaped out of bed to press his head against the bars. In walked Phil, and his first instinct was relief, but then he realized Phil was a massive dick and threw himself away from the bars. 

“Damn, can you believe we still have to use keys in this sector? I’ve accidentally put my badge up to a non-electronic lock five times in the last half hour,” he said, settling his gaze on Dan.

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Relax, Dan, I’m here to get you out. Here, take these,” he said, tossing his clothes from earlier in the day through the bars. “It’s 11:00; everyone else is already gone. Let’s get this over with.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I got you into the facility, Dan. It’s time to go make a few edits.” 

Dan’s mind was racing almost as quick as his heart. He didn’t know what to believe anymore; he was still madly in love with Phil, but he didn’t know if he could trust him. There was no reason for him to get him arrested, especially with no warning. That wasn’t something you’d do to someone you loved. But alas, Dan awkwardly threw on his own clothes. There was no privacy in the cell, so he made Phil turn around because they didn’t need any sort of awkwardness between them in that moment. 

“And before you come out,” Phil added. “Trash that thing.” He pointed to Dan’s diary on the table. “You won’t be needing it.” 

Dan glanced at the book he’d been writing in every day for twenty years. Every day, for twenty years, he wrote a message to a person he’d never met; he wrote to someone he was supposed to be destined to fall in love with, although he’d never even heard their name. He knew everything about the other person, although he really knew nothing. The only person he really knew everything about was Phil, not the mysterious ‘soulmate’ hiding behind the pages of a little, white book. In one swift motion, he slid the diary into the tiny trash can beside his desk, pencils along with it. They were all part of the same sham. 

Phil unlocked the door, and it screeched open, causing each of them to cringe a bit out of fear; Dan didn’t know what kind of security there was around there at night, but he definitely knew that the less sound they made, the better. Dan slipped out once the door was wide enough for him to fit through, and he followed Phil down the hall the opposite way from which he entered. 

Dan honestly had a lot of things to be confused about; he had no clue where they were going or why, nor did he know how Phil managed to get all the keys he needed to get them there, but all this work was done behind the scenes, and he honestly couldn’t complain about not having to be involved. 

“Where are we going?” Dan spoke in a whisper, thinking back to when they were hung over just that morning. Or at least he thought it was that morning. “And how long have I been out?” 

“Only a few hours. Sorry you didn’t get anything to eat; we can go out afterwards.” 

“Oh, great, now I’m hungry. Thanks.” 

“Anytime. Now, back to the topic at hand. We’re going to the Ancient Library.” 

“The what?” 

“You’ve never heard the legend of the Ancient Library?”

“No?” 

Phil took a deep breath and spoke in a mystical voice. “The Ancient Library is rumored to be the place where the records of all the soulmates are held. Legend says that if someone can find and access the Library, they’ll be able to see who everyone’s soulmate is. It’s even said that it’s possible to change the records, although I’m not sure how. This immense power is why it’s said that the library is very well hidden, although it’s rumored to be somewhere in this building.” 

“Wait, so you’re telling me we don’t even know this place exists? How is that a good idea? We’re just going to search this entire building head to toe for something we don’t even know is here?” 

“Not exactly,” Phil said, grinning. “Us employees have our own rumor that it’s hidden inside the Director’s office, although the security there is so intense that nobody’s ever figured out how to get inside, even with our badges.”

“So how are we going to get in?” 

Phil immediately flushed red, biting his lip. “I may have uh... slept with the Director...” 

“Man is that ironic.” 

“We’re not gonna talk about it.” 

They continued down the hall in silence, Phil leading the way to where Dan was sure he’d know where the office was; he was assuming he’d at least been in there once or twice. 

It was a decently long walk; Dan honestly had no clue where he even was, nor how big the facility really was, but it seemed huge from the inside. Dan’s legs were exhausted by the time they reached the huge, wooden doors, although that could’ve just been due to the fact that he was extremely out of shape. That was more likely.

Phil walked up to a glowing sensor beside the doors and flashed his badge in front of it; the white light turned green, and he pushed the doors open. Dan was a bit surprised that there was no human security around the facility, but he assumed the government just couldn’t be bothered with spending the money. The security outside was enough, until the threat came from the inside.

Dan wandered into the room behind Phil, looking around the extravagant office; there were animal heads lining the random fireplace that was for some reason in the long room, and there was a corner that just contained a bunch of gold and silver bars in a case. Behind the huge, messy desk of the Director was a certainly three times larger than life picture of who Dan assumed was the man himself. It all reminded him of Mr. Burns’s office from The Simpsons. 

“So where are we going from here?” 

“I’m pretty sure the entrance is around here somewhere; we just need to find it.” 

The two began searching the room from head to toe, feeling around every inch for something suspicious. Dan honestly felt a bit stupid pulling on the horns of dead animals to see if they activate a hidden door, but he was in too deep to care. Finally they had searched the entire room except one spot. The two of them made eye contact before each glancing at the desk. “We’re gonna have to go through that, aren’t we?” Dan asked.

“Very carefully,” Phil answered. “If we don’t leave everything exactly as it was, he’ll notice in the morning.” 

Dan nodded, and they began carefully opening drawers. After a couple moments, Dan found a drawer that opened to a control panel. “Phil?” Phil perked his head up from his own drawer and looked over Dan’s shoulder. “What the hell is this?” 

There must have been dozens of tiny buttons in all different colors, none of them labelled. 

“I have no clue.” 

“What kind of powers does this guy have? What happens if we push any of these buttons?” 

“Once, again, I have no clue. But my guess would be to push the big red one.” On the left side of the control panel, there was a red button. It was twice as large as most of the others and on its own, but it too had no label. Nevertheless, it was their only hope. Dan pushed the button. 

Suddenly, the ground beneath them both collapsed in on itself, sending them straight through the trapdoor and down a chute. Dan was relieved simply to feel a slide beneath him instead of the bottomless void. He felt the curve of the chute increase, and suddenly he was spat out in a dark room. 

Dan could see, but very little. There was dim, blue lighting, but he wasn’t sure where it was coming from. “Phil?” he whispered.

“Dan?” came back, and he saw Phil approach him and take his hand. 

“Is this good or bad?” 

“I don’t know.” 

The two edged forward, Dan focused on his feet to make sure he didn’t step on any more trapdoors. Phil’s hand was tightly in his, and he appeared to be searching the room intently. 

“This way,” Phil said, suddenly walking briskly towards what Dan finally recognized to be the sources of the only light in the room; there was a small door, light shining through the frame, and another ID sensor. 

Phil flashed his badge in front of the sensor and it flashed green, much to Dan’s relief. “Hard to believe the security on something so important is so loose,” Dan said as Phil opened the door and blue, fluorescent light poured into the room. 

“That’s because nobody knows how to get here. In all honesty, I can’t even tell you for sure that we’re in the right place.” 

“You’re real mysterious, you know that?”

Phil smiled at him, his face glimmering from nervous sweat in the blue light as he climbed through the door. “It’s my best quality.” 

He followed Phil into the room and took in his surroundings; the room was massive, to the point where he could barely see the end of the hall, where something he couldn’t identify sat, and there were rows of filing cabinets as far as he could see. On the top of each was a cloudy screen with blue letters on them distinguishing alphabetical order, some with solely last names. 

“Wow. This is really it,” Phil said, eyes full of wonder.

Dan hesitated, simply looking confused. “What kinda Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix shit is this?” 

“Where do you think we got the idea for the blue?” Phil grinned. 

“Nerds.” 

“Your tax money.” 

Dan rolled his eyes. “So every person in the UK is in here?” 

“Yup. Buckle in for the ride; it’ll take a while to get to our names. This one room is underground the entire facility; it’s nearly a mile wide.”

“You didn’t tell me there would be walking involved!” 

It was Phil’s turn to roll his eyes. “Come on, we don’t have all night.” 

The two took off down the hall, and after about five minutes of agonizing walking they came to a shelf with “Howell” at the top. 

“Popular name, eh?”

“Shut it, Lester.” 

On the third shelf from the top Phil found the Daniels, and it took him a few tries to find the right one. They may print diaries with skin color and gender on them, but they were way too lazy to print files with clarification. They were lucky Phil was tall; if he was any shorter they’d have to find a ladder. 

“Let’s roll,” Phil said, heading back to the main walkway.

“The hell do you mean ‘let’s roll’? What are you doing with that?” Dan asked. Being in the presence of his file made him want nothing more than to look at it. 

“We need to go find mine!”

“Can I at least see my file?” 

Phil straightened his shirt and puffed up his chest. “Classified information,” he said, turning on his heel and walking deeper into the labyrinth. 

“Classified information,” he said mockingly, “my ass. It’s MY file! Besides, we’ve broken enough laws today.” 

“Fair enough,” Phil said, holding the file out behind him as he walked. Dan grabbed it and immediately began violently flipping through it. It had all the normal records, like date of birth, full name, address, and medical records, but behind that were the soulmate records. Dan felt as if he had hit the holy grail of records. Phillip Lester. That was his soulmate. He looked up at Phil. “Phil?” 

“Yeah?” he said, not turning back.

“Isn’t this you?” 

Phil stopped, furrowing his brow, and took the file. “No, it isn’t. There’s only one L in my name. That’s weird.” 

“Sure as hell is,” Dan said, thoughts racing as they made their way to the Ls. Finally they reached the two cabinets full of Lesters, and Dan stuck his tongue out at Phil to show that he was superior. 

Phil rolled his eyes and found his record, opening it himself. “That’s classified information!” Dan mocked. 

“Hypocrite,” he said, turning to the soulmate page. “It says my soulmate is a David Howell.” Phil looked up at him, eyes wide with awe and adventure. “This is so bizarre. Do you really think there’s two other guys on this planet that look exactly like us, have almost the same names as us, were born on the same days as us, and have practically the same lives?” 

“Maybe if you were really a zookeeper.” Dan grinned. Phil strode purposefully back over to the filing cabinet and pulled out the file of a Phillip Lester, flipping through it. 

He looked up, mouth seeming stuck open. “He’s just like me. Just like your diary says.” Phil’s eyes suddenly changed, as if he was filled with determination he didn’t have before. “Run back. And I mean run. And get David Howell’s file. Make sure it’s the right one. Then run to the end of the hall. I’ll meet you there.” 

“Why do I have to run?” 

“Because you don’t know what you’re doing at the end of the hall.” 

"Do you?” 

“Not really, but I have an idea.” A few seconds passed. “Go! We don’t have much time.” 

“Ominous.” Dan turned and ran off, watching each letter pass until he finally reached the H’s. He panted over to the files and found a David Howell that matched every description of him. He dragged himself back to the walkway and doubled over, realizing the worst of the two runs would be the one back. He sighed and took off running, focusing on the wind on his hair until he finally caught up with Phil.

“Happy.... now?” he panted, heart beating faster than he was sure a human heart should. He really needed to get into shape. 

“Very much so,” Phil said, taking the file and checking to make sure everything was in order. Dan glared around to find that they were in the S’s, and the object at the end of the hall was growing nearer. As they inched closer, Dan realized the mysterious object was actually a triple-monitor computer, just like he’d imagine the IDMA spying system would be. Finally, Dan’s heart rate slowed to almost normal, and they reached the end of the hall. 

Phil sat down and woke up the computer, and all three monitors popped open at once. Dan couldn’t help but notice the pieces of tape over all of the cameras. Ironic. Phil put his ID up to a sensor again, and Dan couldn’t help but wonder how much power that little piece of plastic could give a person. It was kinda creepy, to be honest. 

“What are we doing here?” 

“Well, I’m not quite sure-” 

“You’re telling me we’ve done all this and there’s only a chance that you know what to do?” 

“Uh-” Phil stuttered, turning to face Dan. “Maybe.” 

Dan groaned. “Just try your thing.” 

“Well, I have one idea...” he said, opening his own file and pulling out his basic information paper. “There’s a barcode here, you see?” Dan nodded. “Maybe it’ll register with the scanner.” Phil put it up to the scanner, and nothing happened. Fear began to settle into Dan’s heart. “Damnit,” Phil said. “Work, you dumb thing!” 

“I don’t think it’s working,” Dan said, after he tried to scan it about ten more times. 

“Damnit, Dan,” he said, his head hitting the computer desk. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay, Phil,” Dan said. “You tried your best.” He glanced at the time on the computer monitor, reading 4:36 AM. “It’s almost five. Janitors and security will start getting here soon, right?” 

Phil sat up and nodded. “They come at five.” 

“Then let’s get out of here and go home.” 

Phil sighed and stood up, beginning to walk alongside Dan. “Well, about that...” 

Dan’s head snapped towards Phil. “What?” 

“You have to go back to prison.” 

Dan looked down at his all white clothes. “Oh, yeah. That. You can’t get me out of that?” 

“Nope, sorry.” 

Dan groaned. All the power of that damned badge and he couldn’t even get a man out of prison. He could get into the Ancient Library, he could get into the computer, he could-

“Wait, Phil!”

“What is it?” Phil asked, excitement evident on his face.

“You said you slept with the Director, didn’t you?” 

Phil rolled his eyes away and went back to a normal expression. “Didn’t I say I didn’t wanna talk about it?” 

“No! Doesn’t that mean you could talk to him about there maybe being a mistake?” 

Phil gritted his teeth and sucked in air. “I don’t know; that’s a bit risky. You know, we never make mistakes.” 

“Phil, this was obviously a mistake! What do you think this is?” 

“Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe we’re not soulmates.” 

Dan stopped walking. “What?” 

Phil paused beside him, seeming a bit annoyed at the holdup. “Dan, our real soulmates are almost exactly like us. If we’re in love with each other, we’d probably be in love with them too. Maybe it was right, and we’re wrong.” 

“Or maybe we’re right, and it’s wrong! You said it yourself, we’re in love with each other. Maybe my ‘soulmate’,” he said, throwing in air quotes, “is similar to you, but he’s not you. You’re the only you out there, and damnit, Phil, I’m in love with you.” 

Phil sighed, starting to walk again. “I’m in love with you, too; I just... I don’t know.” 

Dan took his hand, pulling him back and putting both his hands in his. “Phil, aren’t we here to do something crazy and stupid?” 

“I mean-” 

“What are we here to do?” 

Phil sighed again. “The stupidest...” 

“Exactly.” 

“Let’s just go back to your cell. I’ll think about it.” 

‘I’ll think about it.’ Try thinking about it when you’re stuck in a jail cell with nothing to do all day. Dan was bored out of his mind, with nothing else to think about. He pulled his diary out of the trash and wrote some positive bullshit to his soulmate. He was pretty sure lying in his diary was illegal too, but what were they gonna do? Lock him up? Dan flopped on his bed, sighing. Phil better pull through with the director. 

It was late at night again when Phil came. As soon as he appeared at the bars, Dan was up against them, eyes wide. “Did you do it?” 

“I bullshitted so hard for you, Howell.” 

“Oh, thank fuck. What did you tell him?” 

“I told him how we met and thought we were soulmates, and that we thought we loved each other, but you came on to me-” 

“Hey!” 

“Sorry, it’s what I already had to tell them to get you arrested.” 

“Thanks.” 

“But you came on to me so I turned you in, but I still felt in love with you and I just wanted him to check to see if there was a mistake. He didn’t take it too well, assuring me that no mistakes have ever been made in the IDMA, but I know how to get what I want from him.” 

“Thanks. Now I have to think about that until I get out of here. So he checked?” 

“He’s having someone look into it right now. The results should be back by the end of the day tomorrow.” 

“That’s so long!”

“Better than nothing.” 

The next day was undoubtedly the longest of Dan’s life. He much enjoyed bullshitting yet another diary entry to Phillip. This time, he really did. It was more fun when he was lighthearted enough to be creative with it, even more fun when he knew who the person on the other side was, and a hell of a lot more fun when he hoped it would be the last one he’d ever have to write. 

The time passed slowly; if his life was a cheesy television show, that episode would show frames of him lying on the prison bed in different positions to symbolize time passing. Dan was perfecting the beautiful dragon he’d drawn on his desk after dinner when he finally heard the door open. He threw down his pencil and leaped from his seat, rushing over to the bars, where he was met with two men in official-looking suits, with an older man standing behind them. He jumped back from the bars, moving up against the back wall.  
“Who the hell are you?” 

“I’m Director James Osborne of the IDMA,” he said, showing a badge that looked similar to Phil’s. Dan inched forward to read it; it seemed legitimate. “These are my bodyguards. We’d like you to come with us, Mr. Howell.” 

“What’s happening?” he asked, suspicious. As hopeful as he was that this was good news, he couldn’t trust the IDMA, and he knew that.

“I can ensure your safety; we’re just going to my office.” Dan nodded, and he unlocked the cell. The four of them walked, the bodyguards making sure Dan stayed ahead of the group at all times. They gave him directions, but he already knew most of the way; it was the exact place he’d gone to the night before, but they didn’t, and couldn’t, know that. Dan took a moment to recall everything Phil had told him to make sure he made his story line up with Phil’s if necessary. 

When they reached the office, the bodyguards ushered Dan from the door as the Director put his badge up to the sensor and opened the door. When they entered, an ebony head turned from a seat across from the Director’s desk and Phil was staring at him. “Phil!” 

“Dan,” he said with a smile. It didn’t seem like a good smile. It seemed like a tired and hopeless smile. Suddenly Dan was filled with fear. He felt a bit safer with Phil’s presence, but he was still terrified of whatever news was about to be shared with him. 

“Take a seat, Mr. Howell,” the Director said, sitting in his overpriced office chair. Dan took a seat in the guest chair beside Phil, and the bodyguards took their place on either side of the Director. 

“So,” the Director said, placing his hands on the table and leaning in towards them. “It has been brought to my attention that something very bizarre has happened with both of your soulmate assignments. I have to tell you, this is something that has never happened before.” He paused for a moment, and Dan and Phil made brief eye contact with each other before looking back at him expectantly. “There was a Phillip Lester and a Philip Lester born on January 30, 1987,” he said, looking at Phil. He turned to Dan. “There was a Daniel Howell and a David Howell born on June 11, 1991.” He cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair. “The two people born on each day grew to be very similar; they have strikingly similar appearances and lives. Phil, this Phillip man grew to have the career you use as your alibi. Dan, this David man has chosen a law path similar to yours. London is a big city, and the United Kingdom is a big country. This is something that is so unlikely to happen that it is the first time in human history that it has occurred.” 

“What is it?” Phil asked, finally speaking up for the agony they were both experiencing. 

“With all the similarities, our system misperceived whose soulmate was who.” 

“There was a mistake?” Dan asked in awe. 

“There was a mistake,” the Director said. 

“We’re soulmates?” Phil asked, too nervous to react without complete confirmation. 

“You are soulmates.” At that, Phil leaped into Dan’s arms, and their lips finally connected without the feeling that they were doing something wrong. They weren’t doing anything wrong; they were two men kissing their soulmate, and they were finally allowed to be happy.

Phil finally tore back, disappointing Dan, but he realized how awkward the situation must have been given the affair Phil had with the Director. “What happens now?” 

“Well,” the Director said. “Firstly, both of you are prohibited from speaking of this incident, or else you will be incarcerated. And, of course, Daniel, you will be released.” Despite the anger that he didn’t get to finish drawing his dragon, Dan couldn’t help but smile at that. “The other two people in question will be brought in independently and informed of the error as well as the consequences for sharing it and given new diaries. You, of course, no longer need yours.” 

“Director?” Phil spoke up.

“Yes, Mr. Lester?”

“I’d like to resign from my position here.” 

The Director was taken aback. “Why?”   
“Through this experience, I’ve seen how corrupt a system that plans your life for you can be. I’m not here to change it, I just don’t think I can be a part of it anymore.” 

The Director sighed deeply, his age visible in his appearance. “I’ve seen a lot of corruption in my time here. The system has its issues, just like every other. Some of it is just plain unnatural, but it’s how this world functions. Disassembling it would never work. I can respect your decision.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Phil said. 

“You two may go.” 

The two scrambled from their seats, eager to get out of the facility and into their new lives together. As soon as the door closed behind them, they fell into each other’s arms in a deep embrace. “I love you,” Dan murmured into Phil’s chest. 

“I love you too.” 

The two locked fingers and began the walk to claim Dan’s belongings from the prison wing. “Can we stop by my cell and grab my diary?”   
Phil turned to him, shocked. “Why would you want that thing? We both know it’s full of corruption; if I could leave mine in this hell, I would.”   
“Yeah, the system is corrupt, but that book isn’t the system. That book is a story of my life, chronicled with every day since I was five years old. It’s not a piece of the system; it’s a piece of me.” 

“Huh,” Phil said. “I’ve never thought of it that way before.” 

“Sometimes I’m insightful,” Dan said. 

After grabbing Dan’s diary and taking a five minute break to make the finishing touches on Dan’s dragon (with Phil’s help), Dan was changed back into his normal clothes. “This is definitely nice,” he said as they made their way to the facility’s exit. 

As the setting sun shined in Dan’s face for the first time in days, he turned to Phil and smiled. “You don’t make mistakes, huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, make sure to leave kudos, and if you came from Tumblr, please go back and let me know there that you liked it by liking/reblogging my original post!! <3333


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